


Indulgence

by cathybites



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-21
Updated: 2011-04-21
Packaged: 2017-10-18 11:11:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/188321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathybites/pseuds/cathybites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hooker AU, more or less.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Indulgence

**Author's Note:**

> ficlet for [](http://balefully.livejournal.com/profile)[**balefully**](http://balefully.livejournal.com/) , who requested _Sam/Dean. HOOKERS._ um. This is kind of that. in a way. Completely ridiculous and indulgent (hence the title) and I don't care. I think Lucy will approve.

"Quit it."

The words were quiet but firm, effective. Sam stilled immediately, moving only his hands, which fisted in the loose material of his trousers. He held his breath as the stick of kohl dragged over his lower lid, followed by the light touch of Dean's finger, smudging the line.

"There, all done."

Sam blinked. His eyelids felt heavy. Every part of him did, weighted down by cosmetics and jewels and the enormity of what would happen in a few short hours. "How...do I look okay?"

Dean stepped back, eyes sweeping down Sam's body, and Sam felt his skin flush under Dean's gaze. Dean reached a hand out and Sam watched as it made contact with his shoulder, following the curve of muscle down, then over, knuckles running over his chest. A finger tugged at the delicate golden ring that pierced his left nipple, and Sam gasped, arched into the pull.

"They're gonna go crazy for you," Dean said, voice softer than Sam had ever heard before. "Somebody's gonna pay a pretty penny for you." His smile widened, the familiar cocky grin that drove Sam mad. "Not as much as I got for my ass, of course, but a decent amount, I bet."

Sam tried to laugh, tried to find levity in the situation, but he couldn't. Couldn't stop thinking about going to some stranger tonight, rough hands parting his thighs, rough body taking him as many times as it wanted. The laugh came out half-choked, more like a sob, and he shook his head.

"Dean, I don't...I *can't*. I can't do this." He met Dean's eyes, saw every fear and doubt he felt reflected in them. Grabbing a hold of Dean's wrists, he pulled him closer, closer still, until he was pressed against Dean, mouth to his ear. "I want it to be you. Why can't it be you?"

Dean's laughter was sharp, but when he pulled away, his face was painted in misery. "Sammy, that's not how it works. You know that." He turned, and Sam saw the tense line of his shoulders, the tremble in his muscles. He picked up a bottle and faced Sam again, expressionless mask in place. "C'mon," he said, "I need to finish getting you ready."

Sam swallowed heavily, then nodded, standing. As Dean drew closer, he shut his eyes, concentrated on the touch of Dean's hands, slick with scented oil. The way they kneaded his muscles, the way they slid along his skin, gentle and maddening. He wanted the feel of them imprinted on his body, committed them to memory so later, he could think of them instead.

Then Dean's hand was on his cock, and Sam's eyes flew open, looking down to see Dean kneeling in front of him, eyes raised to Sam's face. He moaned, and Dean tilted his head down, tongue reaching out lick at Sam's cock. A slow, broad swipe, from root to head, and Sam moaned again, fisted his hands in Dean's hair. "Dean," he said, "Dean, please, do it," but Dean shook his head, still holding onto Sam.

"I can't. You have to...you can't come," Dean said, even as he leaned forward again to run his tongue over the head of Sam's cock. Sam's hips jerked, his prick sliding past Dean's lips for a moment before Dean pulled back, placing one last kiss on the head before standing.

The rest of the time passed in blur, with Dean performing his tasks as perfunctorily as possible. Finally, Sam stood before a mirror, blinking slowly at his reflection. His skin gleamed from the oil, his eyes shone bright from beneath the dark fringe of his hair. He ran a hand down his chest, and when he looked back up, Dean was behind him, watching.

They said nothing for a long moment, just stood and stared at one another in the mirror. Finally, Dean turned his head slightly, breath hot against Sam's ear. "It doesn't matter, okay? Whatever happens tonight, it doesn't matter because it's you and me, Sam. Always has been, always will, and nothing's coming between us." One of his hands laid over Sam's, fingers entwining, and Dean pulled Sam flush to him. "Nothing."


End file.
